


Imperial style

by Mallorn



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10102469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallorn/pseuds/Mallorn
Summary: Your dull existence on the Finalizer takes an interesting turn when an old propaganda book is found. PWP.





	1. An exercise in concentration

**Author's Note:**

> I expect this story to be 6-7 chapters long and it will be updated weekly. Each chapter will focus on a different officer of the Empire or First Order and tags will be added as we go.
> 
> English isn’t my first language and I have no beta (I’d love to get one), so please bear with me and ignore any weird wording or odd grammar you may find.  
> Enjoy!

“Ma’am?” You lift your gaze from the datapad and look at the young man who addressed you. Petty officer Thanisson looks nervous, but also proud.

You are a decade older than him, but only one rank above, a combination that often makes you the object of his confidences. You joined the military late, having first pursued a civilian career until an affair with your boss ended badly and you decided to get away as fast and as far as you could. Fortunately, your skills with computers had been enough in demand that you were assigned the lowest officer’s rank after a crash course in the bare necessities. You would never command personnel anyway, making you an ensign was simply the most convenient way to employ you as a specialist and station you where needed.

“Yes, Thanisson? Do you want to tell me something?”

“I found… I found this, ma’am. In the cantina. A book, ma’am.” He holds it up, and you recognize the title immediately, in spite of not having encountered any physical copies of it. “Imperial style” was legendary, its raunchy content high in demand until the Emperor had banned both it and all similar works, supposedly on Lord Vader’s initiative.

“It is… it is indecent,” the doe-eyed young man continues, pink tinting his cheeks.

“Have you read it, Thanisson?” By now, he is blushing to the roots of his hair. It is quite lovely, actually. His enormous eyes look so innocent you can’t help imagining they must be hiding something dark and illicit. If the man just didn’t look so childish.

“Just… just a glance, ma’am,” he hesitates. “It wasn’t obvious what kind of literature it would be. I thought…”

“Yes?”

“I thought it would be a biography of sorts, ma’am. On the imperial officers who set an example for us all. And instead…” His face contorts in a grimace. “It is heretical. I’m sorry, ma’am, I should just have disposed of it.”

“You were right to bring it to me, Thanisson.” You take the book and run your digit slowly, reverently even, over the embossed title. “This is actually propaganda,” you tell the young man, who is now staring at you with intent. “A rare sort conceived by Grand Moff Tarkin in his infinite… wisdom. It was thought at the time that since the troops would read indecent matter anyway, circulating approved stories featuring the high command would satisfy this desire in a way that could be controlled, at the same time as it would inspire hero worship, even if it was a twisted kind of it.” You smile. It would certainly inspire you, even if you can’t quite imagine the present leadership in similar roles. General Hux is very handsome, though.

“Then it would be okay to read it?” Thanisson’s eager voice interrupts your musings and you lift your gaze from the book to look at him. His face shines with hope and you hate crushing it.

“No. It was at the time, but today, it is not something that is encouraged. I will take care of this.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The light in his eyes tones down to his usual level of eagerness, which is more than enough, and he hands over the book.

“Thank you.” You brush your fingers against his hand a little more than necessary, holding his gaze a second too long. “You did well.” He beams.

Thanisson returns to his station and you examine the book in your hands closer. It is indeed rare, partly because of its banned contents, but mostly because of the format. Print on paper. This is a relic. Who on the Finalizer would possess such a thing in the first place, not to mention be careless enough to displace it? At least there isn’t any doubt about what to do with it. General Hux is a book connoisseur and a great admirer of the Grand Moff, and would no doubt appreciate an addition to his collection of memorabilia, if you can only bring yourself to give it to him. Perhaps you can do so in secret, although that would rob you of the chance to see his reaction, as well as any future favours such a gift might render you. But that is a problem for later. Before deciding the book’s fate, you will read it. Already tonight, the stories will add a little adventure to your dull and lonely evenings.

***

Back in the sanctity of your own quarters after the end of the shift, you shower and change from uniform to comfortable loose-fitting pants and tunic. All the time the book lies on the shelf beside your bed, the Grand Moff on the cover staring almost accusingly at you. You will get rid of it, you promise yourself, and him. Just a little research at first, in the name of curiosity, what harm is there in that? Besides, regardless of what you told Thanisson, one should know one’s history.

Thoughts of the Petty Officer pricks your conscience like a needle, but only briefly. You couldn’t have handled this matter differently – by ridding the young man of the notorious book, you had even helped him. It is a lie, and yet it is with a sigh of content you lie down on the bed, head propped up on too thin regulation pillow with your carefully folded coat underneath.

You reach out and take the book, bringing it to your nose. There is none of the new book smell you remember from your childhood, you realize with some disappointment as you thumb through the pages. Yet, you proceed to hold it in front of you, almost reverently, savouring the moment before diving into the new world between its covers.

_You were in the control room of the Death Star, alone but for the guards outside. Sleep had evaded you, and you knew that putting in some extra work would be a good solution of that problem. Being well prepared meant the next day would be less stressful, which was particularly important as the time of the project’s completion was near. You prided yourself with your excellent service record. Tonight’s work would once again bear witness of your impeccable efficiency, justifying your well-earned place in the Imperial forces._

_Calculations and schedules filled the screen as your fast fingers flew over the panels. Your focus was entirely on your console, and only when you saw a reflection flicker in the smooth surface you noticed that someone was standing behind you. You froze, suddenly filled with dread, in spite of knowing that nobody without clearance could have passed the death troopers in the corridor. Slowly you turned your head, and jumped with surprise when you saw who it was. Grand Moff Tarkin._

_“Sorry, sir. If you wish to be alone, I will take my leave immediately, sir.”_

_“No. Proceed.”_

_His careful pronunciation and trademark rolled ‘r’ stirred something inside of you. You were thrilled with the stern man’s attention. You continued typing and in the reflection of the glass you could see that his face was still, looking at the screen._

_His presence filled you with a sense of awe, immense respect, a measure of fear… and longing for his approval. Never before had you been under his scrutiny like this, but you felt somehow that his interest was benevolent. You doubled your efforts, determined not to be found lacking._

_After a while, you noticed that Tarkin was standing even closer. His breath came in little puffs against your neck, the intimacy of it nearly indecent. Your backside must almost be touching his front. It was unnerving at first, but he seemed content to watch you work in silence, and eventually you began to relax. You could do this, you were a professional. Then you felt a slight pressure from behind, and you arched into him instinctively, pushing back before you realized what you were doing. Your breath hitched and you quickly corrected your position, continuing to type, but that didn’t change what you had felt. Him. Hard._

_He pressed against you again, and this time you pushed back, holding your breath. No words of reprehension followed; instead you felt dry lips against your neck and strong hands holding your hips steady as he ground against you. You let out a wordless gasp, staring with determination at the screen._

_Hands snuck towards your front now, under your shirt. You felt how he cupped your breasts, squeezing them gently at first, then pinching your nipples until you had to squeeze your eyes shut not to cry out.  Then his hands were suddenly on your rear again, caressing you, pulling up your uniform skirt._

_You were impossibly wet already. His long, slender fingers glided with ease on top of your soaked regulation underwear, all along your slit. You parted your legs, leaning forward, still typing, although with considerable difficulty. Swift fingers pulled your panties to the side and pushed into you, again and again. You pressed against him, helpless and needy, wordlessly begging for more._

_Tarkin was merciful. A belt opened, there was a rustling of clothes and then you felt him at your entrance. You braced yourself against the console, standing on tiptoes. Feeling him entering you was bliss… and agony. He moved slowly at first, then stilled as if he wanted you to really feel the fullness of him deep inside of you. Both of you breathed deeply, in unison, and then he began to thrust, snapping his hips. He fucked you efficiently, in quick, measured strokes as you whimpered uncontrollably._

_“Now, brief me,” he said suddenly, in an impossibly even voice, as if this was how he conducted his work daily. The thought sent a fresh gush of wetness between your thighs._

_“Sir, I…” You needed to pull yourself together, and fast. You willed your mind to concentrate on the screen, and not not not on how incredibly turned on you were by being used by the Grand Moff._

_You drew a deep breath and somehow managed to make your voice not come out in a wanton moan, but some likeness of professionalism. “These are the resource calculations for next month, sir,” you managed. “As you see from this graph here, spending is within… the… the… ah…anti…ci…pa…ted… range.” You had to stop, it was just too much with how he was absolutely pounding you. You opened your mouth in a wordless gasp, holding your breath, feeling the tightening inside until you exploded with a shameless moan that made you go silent as soon as you realized it._

_That was when you heard it. Tarkin’s groan. The sound was low, dry, very matter-of-fact. Business successfully conducted. Nothing more. Taking what was his right, a fair payment for his loyalty and many years of service to the Empire._

_To you, this vocalisation was the sound of approval you had been longing for. You turned and watched shyly as he straightened his clothes, delighted with the slight colour on his cheeks. Having fastened the last button, he caught your gaze with his piercing blue eyes._

_“Your work is commendable, officer.”_

_Having uttered these words, the Grand Moff turned on his heel. Pride swelled in your chest as you watched him leave. You felt grateful and honoured to have been chosen to serve the great man and your heart confirmed that you were where you wanted to be for the rest of your days, serving the Empire to the best of your ability._

You suddenly realize that you are holding the book with just one hand, the other having sneaked down between your legs to rub at your clit. Closing your eyes, you put the book aside and your other hand goes underneath your panties. You imagine the fingers exploring your wetness are not yours, but Tarkin’s long and slender ones. Your last coherent thought before you fall asleep is a fantasy of servicing the austere Grand Moff on your knees, pleasing him with your mouth while he cruelly ignores your efforts. The old propaganda clearly still has its merits.


	2. Quenching thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Director Krennic is thirsty and you help him quench it in a mutually rewarding way :)

The next day, you go about your duties in a haze, last night’s fantasies having left a lasting imprint in your mind. Every time you stand at a console, your imagine someone sliding up to you. Nobody is there, of course, except for the one time just before the meal break when you are sure enough to not turn your head and look. You take a step back and bump into a solid body.

“Ensign,” you hear Lieutenant Mitaka’s reproachful voice as he steadies you. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, sir. That was so clumsy of me. I apologize.”

“Accepted,” he says. “Perhaps you ought to take your meal now. You seem to be in a weakened state.” The worry in his brown eyes takes precedence over any remaining annoyance. Such a sweet young man. You are lucky with your colleagues, even if reality could use a little more spice.

Mitaka escorts you to the canteen, and while you wait for your turn, you study the portraits of the prominent officers on the wall with a new interest. Tarkin’s image makes you blush, you cannot possibly hear of him again without thinking of what he supposedly did with that lucky officer in the book. Or all the other things he must have done to be confident with circulating such stories about himself.

“Ensign,” Mitaka’s voice reach through your thoughts and you realize it’s his elbow poking your side, not any body part of the Grand Moff. “If you’re so enamoured of these portraits I’m sure you could ask General Hux for a copy. All senior staff are encouraged to keep similar prints in their quarters, and I’m sure he would consider your wish if you told him. Commander Ren refused, so there should be some extras.”

“Really?” You were less optimistic. The General was far too cunning not to be suspicious of such a request. It would hardly put you in his good graces if he were to question the reason for your infatuation and find out that you had withheld a scandalous volume that was possibly his to begin with.

“Thanks for the suggestion, but it wouldn’t really be according to regulation, would it?”

“I guess not. You’re always welcome to look at mine, though… I only have a small Tarkin, but it’s a rare print of the edition with a red pen.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. That’s nice of you.” You can’t really decide if Mitaka just made a pass at you, or if his adoration of imperial officers is sincere. Possibly both.

In any case, you choose not to explore his possible feelings for you further, and the rest of the day is spent uneventfully with work. There is the usual small talk with Thanisson as you work side by side. He doesn’t mention the book.

When the shift is over, it’s time for your scheduled physical training, then an uninspired meal again, followed by the General’s weekly motivational speech. You feel quite exhausted when you finally return to your quarters, but the book calls to you the minute you come inside the room. You pick it up with a sense of expectation and pointedly ignore Tarkin’s adventures for a new chapter.

_According to rumour, Director Krennic had bedded all the female research officers, and a considerable part of the male ones. It was easy to see why so many yearned for his attention. Even in a barely sober state, walking down the corridor with obvious care to his steps, he made a striking appearance. He wasn’t wearing his famed cape, but even without it his pristine white uniform commanded attention and the dusting of silver in his hair couldn’t have looked more elegant if he’d had it done on purpose. His eyes were mesmerizing, they said, piercing or stormy depending on his mood. One did not wish to cross him._

_It was late at night, the middle of the least popular shift. Nobody liked to work while most of the others rested or partied or pursued… other activities. You glanced at the Director again, briefly wondering where he was going. Were the rumours true? You surely wouldn’t deny him anything, were he so inclined. Not that he was likely to notice you as you went from console to console, doing routine checks to make sure everything was updated and in perfect condition for the new day. Your fingers flitted over the next screen and you sighed. Another one with an aborted update. Setting it to reboot, you made a mental note to come back to this console later._

_“Officer,” a voice called._

_You looked up and saw the Director standing in the doorway. He was staring at you, oddly, expressionless. Handsome. You felt colour rise to your cheeks and you closed your eyes for a moment, willing it to go away. Then you straightened your back, lifted your head and presented Director Krennic with the perfect salute worthy of your status as an imperial officer. Even if you were just a Second Lieutenant._

_Krennic didn’t blink. He continued to eye you coolly, as if undecided what to do with you. Those lips… Your arm fell uselessly to your side, but you remained standing at attention. In a sudden whim of dare, you lifted your gaze, and met his. Your cheeks heated again and you felt pinned, surrounded, unable to flee._

_“Stand easy. As you were.”_

_The commands made you relax mentally as well as physically. You went back to your duties, but with the sense of eyes following your every move. What was Krennic doing in this part of the station anyway, at this hour? Everyone knew the control room would be empty apart from the troopers standing guard outside._

_“I am thirsty,” he said to nobody in particular, more like he was talking to himself and stating a fact than to express a wish to do something about it. You turned your head and found him sitting in a chair at the observation window, gazing out into space. You tried to follow his line of sight, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. White specks of lights against a dark backdrop. Attractive, yes, but with none of the romantic connotations a starry sky was supposed to have according to ancient Terran culture. The sight was restful, though._

_“Director,” you finally acknowledged. “Would you like me to fetch you a drink, sir?”_

_“Not an unwelcome suggestion,” he said, briefly turning his head in your direction. The corners of his mouth turned upwards for a second, before his gaze became distant again and he resumed his earlier position. “I had a few drinks already, obviously, until Tarkin decided to close the bar.” He pronounced the name of your superior with exaggerated care, and more than a little disdain in his voice._

_Unwilling to agree with criticism against the Grand Moff, yet careful not to set off Krennic’s notorious temper, you chose not to reply._

_After a while, Krennic slowly turned the chair around to face you. “I speak of a different thirst,” he said.  His eyes raked over you from head to toe, pointedly pausing at certain areas before he caught your gaze. You trembled, suddenly self-conscious at the unexpected turn of events. “Ah, I see you catch my intention,” he drawled. I’ve always valued intelligence in my subordinates. Come here.”_

_Gingerly, holding your breath, afraid to break the mood, you walked towards him in slow-motion. You had felt drawn to him earlier, and now he pulled you in as if with a tractor beam. “Exactly like that,” he cooed when you stood between his parted thighs. “Now, kiss me.”_

_He tasted of brandy and sweet tobacco._

_Strong hands held your face in place, robbing you of action should any second thought arise. Taking advantage of your leaning position, he maneuvered his knees between your thighs, and when he finally let go of your mouth, his hands around your waist settled you firmly on his lap, straddling him._

_“There you are.” He sounded as contented as he looked, chin lifted, looking down at you through dilated pupils. Your arms around his neck plucked at his collar._

_“I am,” you told him slowly as you edged towards him, stopping just short of the bulge in his uniform trousers. “And now that you have me, what are you going to do with me? Sir?” Predictably, he preened at the respectful address and you felt him tense under you._

_“I’m sure you’re smart enough to guess, Lieutenant,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to fuck you. Thoroughly.” You bit your lip as his hands came around your arse, pushing you onto him. The delicious pressure of his straining manhood against your core made you let out a small whimper. He began to grind up against you, at the same time as he – you – both of you pressed you down onto him as you both groaned._

_Deft fingers opened your uniform jacket and shirt, parting them just enough for his nose to bury in the cleft between your breasts. Then eager lips were there too, sloppily kissing and devouring them, nipples between teeth – oh! – as you held on to his hair, tugging helplessly as the frantic assault on your chest continued. His hands were on your bottom again now, then one of them was suddenly touching between your legs, under your skirt, underneath your panties. And then, inside of you. His low growl alone sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you._

_“So wet,” he declared. “I like that in a woman. Wet and ready for me.” His voice was strained now, his fingers moving at an increasingly frantic pace. You were panting, open-mouthed, beyond even thinking of coming up with a smart retort. If he’d just keep his promise, and soon._

_“Please, sir,” you whined as you struggled with his belt. “Pleeeease.” Finally, you succeeded. The heavy buckle fell to the side, and a light tug at the zipper made the uniform trousers burst open, revealing tented grey briefs beneath. You palmed him, relishing in the deep growl this pulled from his throat._

_Suddenly he stood from the chair and positioned you in it, kneeling with parted thighs and supported by your hands on its spine. You could see his reflection in the window in front of you, a stark white figure quickly pulling down trousers and underwear. Your own panties had already disappeared in the process. Waiting, shivering a little, you looked out into the starry space. All domains of the mighty Galactic Empire. Worlds conquered by men like Director Krennic. Wayward and desperate to be owned, governed and cared for. Their pleas had been heard._

_You moaned loudly when the heel of his hand settled on your clit. He massaged you surprisingly gently until your hips began to buck up against his hand by their own volition. Then he held you steadily and as you felt the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, you pushed back, eagerly welcoming the intrusion._

_“Yeeesss,” you both hissed at that first, long stroke. “Please,” you moaned when he dragged himself out of you, only to fill you again immediately with a harsh snap of his hips._

_“I am going to fuck you now,” he growled._

_“Oh yes, please, sir!” Anything, you would do anything to make him continue. “Sir,” you moaned._

_He chuckled, wide grin visible through stars, and then you were no more, only bodies joining violently, thighs slapping against thighs, a firm grip in your hair dragging your head back, fingers in your mouth. Tension and bliss and groaning and a fleeting thought about the guards – what if they hear – and then more more more sweet sensations as he continued to pound you for an impossible amount of time. White light suddenly filled space as you squeezed your eyes together and came. He continued to thrust into you, jostling you in the chair, growling loudly until finally he stilled, gripping your hips so hard you were sure it would bruise. You panted in unison with him, remaining still with him until he pulled out with a little sigh._

_You stayed like that, watching his reflection fasten his clothes, suddenly unwilling to look him in the eye. Just another conquest, that’s all you were. It had felt so good, but now, you suddenly just felt… used._

_“Chin up,” the Director said and whirled the chair around so that you faced him. “You are mine now, and that has its rewards, apart from the obvious.” You realized as you climbed down from the chair that the flash of white you saw him pocket were your panties._

_“I’ll keep these until next time,” he said and flashed you a wolfish grin. “Goodnight, Lieutenant.”_

_“Goodnight, sir.” You watched him stride from the room, his gait a brisk cheerful now, far from the half-drunk, sleepy state he had been in previously. Now, it was you who were sleepy. A final check on those remaining consoles, and then this shift would be over. Another night you could go to rest, proud of your loyal service to the Empire and knowing you had done your very best._


	3. The perils of violating regulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Mitaka shows you how dangerous, and rewarding, it may be to break First Order rules.

The week flies by, not allowing much chance for your thoughts to wander. Your days are busy, your nights dreamless for the most part. You do wake up one night to an image in your head of a door, and although you know it leads to something important, you can’t tell what or who and the dream refuses to come back. 

Thanisson is a handful, impeccably efficient as always, attentive and devoted almost to the point of being stalkerish in the way his enormous eyes stare with intent at every officer that goes near him, eagerly waiting to fulfil a command the very second it is given. It’s almost pitiful that for the most of the time he’s saddled with just you. His friendship and easy-going camaraderie is appreciated, but the fanatic devotion would better be saved for General Hux or Captain Phasma. On you, it is wasted, but you don’t have the heart to tell him.

It doesn’t hinder your friendship, though, and he’s almost bouncing with joy when you break for caf.

“She’s fabulous!” he exclaims, describing his latest crush. “I saw her look at me, without her helmet, and she smiled!”

“You’re lucky.” You smile at him, proud of how apt you are at holding envy at bay. You are determined not to let your own lack of romantic interests come between the two of you.

“She comes here every day,” he gestures to your surroundings. “I know it’s her, she has the cutest little dent in her shoulder armour, and I swear, she always looks straight at me.”

“She’s a stormtrooper?”

“Yes,” he beams. “A very special one, to just think that I found her among the many.”

You smile at him again; it’s difficult to meet the young man’s vibrant enthusiasm with anything else. Even if you sincerely doubt the future of this romance. Troopers are not encouraged to pursue personal interests.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him. That sentiment, at least, is sincere. Work would be a lot more boring without Thanisson around.

***

That night, you peek under Tarkin’s skin more out of habit than actual interest. The chapter focuses on Captain Pellaeon, and although he has his picture in the galleries of the important imperial commanders, his seductive moves towards the communications officer serving under him on the Chimaera fail to rouse your interest to any serious level. You touch yourself half-heartedly, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Perhaps it’s not at all the Captain’s fault, only a result of stress and too many thoughts in your head. You might as well get some work done to take your mind off the most urgent tasks. Even if you won’t complete them, putting in an extra hour or two of work should get you exhausted enough to be able to rest afterwards.

Knowing how empty the central area of the ship is at this hour, you forego your complete uniform and just put on trousers and jacket on top of the soft shorts and tank top you usually sleep in. 

You meet nobody on the way, except for a contingent of Stormtroopers – a sight so common that the only reason you even register them is Thanisson’s love interest. There should be an officer on duty somewhere in the vicinity, but you don’t see anyone, and soon you are comfortably lost in the familiar steps of carrying out your tasks. It’s nothing difficult, just time consuming, and for security reasons needs to be performed from the console in the middle of the room. The changes won’t take action until they’ve been counter-signed by someone in high command, but doing the preparations in this, less busy, cycle is efficient enough that you ought to suggest it to become normal procedure.

“Ensign? Are you working alone?” Lieutenant Mitaka’s voice is, as so often, mildly worried.

“Yes, but I’m finishing now. Can I help you with something? Lieutenant?”

“This is against regulations,” he tells you. His voice is stern now. “It’s dangerous,” he continues, and his eyes hold nothing of his usual, mild worry. Rather, there is a dark glow to them, which, paired with his voice, is strangely attractive. How come you never noticed this side of him before?

“And in this state of undress,” he continues with a glance of disdain at your jacket, now carelessly slung over the back of a chair. His disgust doesn’t seem to last very long when he looks at your bare arms.

“Sorry, sir,” you tell him, lowering your gaze. “There didn’t seem to be any harm in it. I really needed to catch up with work and it’s safe here.” You look up, only to see those dark eyes pull you in. If this had been anybody else, you’d say he was flirting with you. Very irregular behavior, but not unwelcome.

“To the contrary, Ensign. You are not safe being alone here, not like this.” He lifts his hand towards your arm, but puts it down again, just before his fingers connect with your skin.

The gesture leaves you oddly disappointed, goosebumps having formed unnecessarily. You stare at that area of your flesh, as if you could will him to actually touch you.

“Anyone could take advantage of you,” he says, lowering his voice to a smooth velvet that is a caress that is as soft as his lips look. “Even General Hux might be tempted. Not to mention the common ’troopers on patrol. Or Kylo Ren.” The voice pronouncing the menacing name are barely even a whisper, requiring all of your attention to catch. “You would be helpless.”

You shiver, more from the vocal caress than any sense of fear. Mitaka’s lips stop moving and you realize with a start that you are still watching them, waiting for more words to form them into attractive patterns.

“What would happen, Lieutenant?” you whisper breathlessly. “What would they do if they found me here, alone?” The conversation is a silly game, but an enticing one.

“They would molest you, Ensign.” His expression suddenly becomes ferocious, the change so sudden that it makes you take a step back. He follows immediately. “They would paw you with their hands,” he stutters in a half-growl. “Everywhere.” You swallow, but stay your ground. He grabs roughly at your breasts in a clumsy imitation of hurried liberties taken, crushing and pinching them in an awful way that, once you get past the shock of him actually touching you, and like this, is still strangely exciting when he does it.

“And… General Hux? Would he do this, too?”

Apparently, thoughts of your superior makes Mitaka regain his senses. He is back to his calmer, stricter self when he continues, although his hands still cup your breasts and his thumbs are doing lovely things with your nipples, swiping over them in a gentle, circling motion that make you push your chest further into his hands. He keeps doing this until a moan comes over your lips. He smiles and does it some more, until he lets out a groan of his own.

“The Lieutenant who did catch you,” he continues in a strained voice, “would need to make a closer inspection to fully evaluate the scope of your transgressions.”

“Go ahead,” you tell him.

His hands come underneath your top and cup your breasts again. “Indeed” he says, managing a resemblance of cool professionality. “I can confirm the definite lack of the standard issue bra that is to be worn by all female personnel while on duty.”

He sounds far too collected. You lift your hand and press it against his crotch, drawing out a deep moan as you cup him through his flawless uniform trousers. Moving up and down his length results in an entire string of undignified little whimpers.

“Ah… ah…” It’s cute how he has trouble finding his voice. “The… General… would go for a more strategic target,” he finally says and stills your hand with his own. The other he slides over your belly until his fingers press against your core. “Here,” he whispers as he runs his fingers over your slit. “He would touch you here, for as long as he pleases. And you wouldn’t be able to stop him.”

The idea is intoxicating, the reality even more so. Prim, proper Lieutenant Mitaka behaving so wonderfully unprofessionally.

His hand sneaks into your trousers. Suddenly he has two fingertips inside of you, pushing up and up insistently as the thumb of his other hand circles your clit.

“And then? Would those who might find me here… alone… limit… themselves… to this,” you pant.

“Oh no,” he warns, eyes glittering darkly. “They would push you up against a wall, or down onto the floor.”

He lowers you gently, then suddenly seers and kicks your knees apart with his boot. His cold, dominating glance sends a surge of lust through you.

Then he is upon you again, crushing you under him with his weight and pinning your wrists to the floor. His hips move rhythmically against you, grinding down with each thrust. “And then,” he continues, “they would yank down your trousers.”

This step is a little awkward and it becomes clear that the young lieutenant is not a habitual violator of women, which makes the experience even more exciting. But soon you are rid of both trousers and panties.

The demonstration resumes with him entering you, slower and with more consideration than any molester. You lock your ankles around his waist, inviting him deeper.

“One of them would fuck you,” he says throatily, “and the others would cheer him on.” He begins to pound into you in earnest, eyes burning with lust.

“And the General”, you moan. “Would he hold me down like this?”

“Oh no,” he chuckles darkly. “General Hux would command you to be still and think of serving the First Order. And you would obey.”

“What if I asked him to stop?”

Mitaka tenses, stilling his motions immediately. “If you told him to stop,” he says gravely, holding your gaze, “he would, immediately. General Hux is a man of honour. But,” he continued, relaxing, if you had gone this far with him, without any indication of reluctance… if you had moaned for him like you did for the Lieutenant who found you…” He tilts his hips and grins when you let out a keening sound and buck into him. “If you were as wet for him as you are now for me… then he’d tell you to be a good soldier and take whatever he was giving you.”

You shiver at this image, until once again reality takes precedence. Mitaka’s face, slack with desire, hovers over you, contorting in a grimace during that last, hard couple of strokes that take you both over the edge.

***

“I hope you have learned your lesson,” Mitaka says as he fastens his belt.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I am glad it was you who found me. Even if I don’t really think working this late is usually as exciting, or dangerous, as this.”

“Not usually, no,” he admits. “But it has happened.”

You seriously doubt it. It sounds so much like something out of _Imperial style_ that you begin to suspect the volume could actually belong to the Lieutenant.  

“You’d better see me safely to my quarters, then,” you tell him, putting a hand on his arm. He tucks it under his elbow and bows slightly. This small gesture fills you with affection as well as pride. The Lieutenant is such a gentleman and you are happy to serve together with him.

“I wish you a restful night, Ensign,” he tells you as you arrive outside your door.

“The same to you, Lieutenant,” you reply.

He hovers, and there’s obviously something more he wants to say. You nod encouragingly.

“I’m sorry,” he begins awkwardly and shifts his feet. “Under the circumstances I’d rather not, but I will need to report this.”

You stare at him in disbelief, eyes wide as saucers.

“Not the entire…encounter,” he continues, “but the violation of dress code. All breach of regulations must be reported and entered in the personnel record of each serviceman. There are, however, no stipulations regarding the locations where intercourse may or may not take place.”

“The relation as such, then? You can’t call this by any other name than fraternization, between staff of unequal rank, at that.”

“Ensign, you underestimate me. What just passed was instruction, followed by a demonstration of the perils of violating schedule regulations and dress code. I trust the lesson has been learned and that future instruction, however pleasurable, will not be necessary.”

You are gobsmacked. You have no idea what to answer to that, and so you don’t, just mirror his honest smile and half-serious salute. Then he is gone.

***

Back in your bed, you cast a quick glance at Tarkin’s blue eyes on the book cover, but they don’t tempt you. You just don’t care very much right now about what Captain Pellaeon was about to do with that officer when you last finished reading.

The only way your sex life would change for the better would be if you started to pay more attention to any chances with a living lover, than to imagined trysts, however titillating, with the long dead. An encounter with a real Mitaka is worth at least ten, okay, maybe five, Tarkin fantasies. And Hux in his greatcoat is almost as enticing a thought as a caped Krennic. Even a masked Kylo Ren has some potential, you think with a shudder before you focus your wandering mind on how the Lieutenant smiled as he left.

 


	4. Backup costs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a well-known fact that the costs for information backup tend to increase all the time, and the same goes for the flagship of the First Order. Luckily, you have the currency needed.

Mitaka behaves in his usual way. You follow him closely throughout the day, watching for a sign that would tell that the previous night’s events somehow meant something to him. There is nothing. He’s his usual efficient self, slightly nervous-looking next to his superiors, never slacking for a second with those of lesser rank. You carry out your work to your best ability as usual, and the Lieutenant accepts your reports with his usual mild, but always professional, demeanour. 

There is no awkwardness between you, no unspoken questions or expectations. What passed between you was clearly only a chance encounter, an anomaly unlikely to be repeated. The idea should be disappointing, but it is a relief. Mitaka is a loyal officer and may with time make a wonderful friend, but there is none of that agonizing attraction between you, no tension that begs to be broken. No desire. Besides, it would doubtlessly be awkward in the long run to work alongside a secret lover. And the Lieutenant would never publicly announce your relationship. The git! You’re almost angry with him before you realize there is no relationship to either announce, or keep secret. Just excessive daydreaming when you should be paying attention to your work.

Thanisson is desperation personified today. He walks skittishly, talks only when spoken to and when you finally get him to stand still long enough to ask what’s the matter, his enormous eyes are moist.

“She’s gone,” he says. His shoulders droop visibly.

“Gone? You mean your special girl was transferred? Probably just to some other part of the ship, then.”

“Maybe.”

“Then you can just look her up, come one, it’s not a catastrophe.”

“It is,” he says and bores his tear-filled gaze into you. “I don’t even know her designation.”

Oh. That makes it more difficult. You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to help him out. It’s almost to easy.

“It may still be possible to find her,” you say, patting his arm reassuringly. “I know you don’t have the clearance, and there’s no time to look at records now, but tonight…”

“Yes?” The new hope in his eyes makes you smile.

“I have to oversee the backup tonight, and as I’m mostly just needed to be there in case of an emergency, I can do a little research at the same time. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find out which contingent of Stormtroopers used to patrol your section and their present whereabouts.”

“It’s against regulations.” He casts a quick, but meaningful glance at General Hux, who is, thankfully out of earshot.

“I’ll likely be alone most of the time. Please let me do this for you.”

“I don’t dare to hope too much, but thanks!”

Thanisson looks a little less alarmed now, and it feels good to be able to do something for him. You still feel guilty for denying him _Imperial Style_ , yet keeping the book for yourself. This snooping means you may not have the time to read while the backup is running, but then again, maybe you will. The main console is capricious at best, and there’s no telling how long tonight’s task will take. Due to the extensive repairs needed after Commander Ren’s latest bout of vandalism, it will be the first complete backup of the Finalizer’s records in three weeks.

***

”There,” you say to yourself. Researching Thanisson’s crush took a bit longer than expected, but on the other hand, the machines are behaving so far. About an hour’s wait by the console is all that remains, and you’ll be ready for the first night of good sleep in so long. Watching the status bar on the screen is boring, but you’re not going to leave until the job is completed. The book is safe in the pocket of your jacket, the garment brought for this precise reason and now hanging inconspicuously over the back of chair, and you’re not even going to look at it, lest you be tempted.

As you stand there, you suddenly hear a sound that chills you to the core. There’s an unearthly whirring sound that you recognize as the crackle of an unstable lightsaber, now and then interrupted as it no doubt hits some unlucky panel or piece of equipment. This is accompanied by the sound of heavy boots thumping on the floor. And the sounds are coming closer.

Your impulse is to run in the opposite direction – this is a survival skill learnt by all aboard the battlecruiser during their first week of service. This time, you can’t. The backup must be completed; it is only a matter of twenty-two minutes now. You stand your ground, back turned towards the console as if you could somehow hide it with your body. It is silly, but still, there are other consoles for him to destroy if that is what he wants, or maybe he will just storm by without noticing you.

The crackling becomes louder, an eerie red glow fills the corridor, and suddenly the furious knight is in the room with you. You panic. How have you ever believed you could in any way stop him from doing whatever is on his mind? You don’t even have the strength to run for cover, frozen in place by sheer terror.

“Please, sir,” you cry out as the commander close in on you, weapon ready to slash at anything in his path. “Please!” You back slowly, continuing to beg, until you are practically plastered against the backup console. “Not this one, please, sir, this backup is essential for the Order, so many have sacrificed so much for this information. Please don’t damage it.”

He proceeds towards you, menacingly and steadily as if he hasn’t heard a word you said, or at least can’t care less. He holds his saber raised in front of him now, bringing it closer and closer to your face. You can feel the heat against your skin now, his hand around the hilt just in front of your lips. His booted feet planted firmly to the ground, his body way too close for comfort.

This is the end, you think. This is how I die, and I couldn’t even save the backup. Just fifteen minutes of courage I didn’t have. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the coup de grace. Red fog is all you see, your hearing is reduced to picking up only the crackling, and your own frantic breathing drumming in your ears. A click, and then – silence. It takes you a couple of seconds to realize that the weapon has been switched off.

“Kiss it,” comes the knight’s distorted voice.

You open your eyes momentarily, hastily touching your lips to the hilt in front of your mouth, obeying the command without a thought. The metal is warm from his hand.

“Again.”

This time, you are a little bolder, sliding your half-open mouth over both metal and gloved fingers. You feel lightheaded and are eager to please him, grateful that your life had been spared, for now at least.

“Ten minutes,” he states. “I will allow you to distract me for ten minutes.”

“Anything you want, Commander,” you whisper. “Anything.”

His throaty chuckle goes straight to your core, or perhaps it is the way his hips press against you. You feel him shift as he clips the saber onto his belt. He is large.

Broad hands close around your waist, hoisting you up onto the console. You pray that your weight will be too much for the touch-sensitive panels to register. The backup must be completed.

“Look at me,” comes his voice, clearer now. “Focus.”

You have seen Commander Ren without his helmet before, and yet you are not prepared for his stunning features, his intense gaze directed at you. It’s almost too much to bear. “Tell me what you want, Commander,” you breathe.

“I’ll show you, you loyal slut,” he sneers.

Somehow, the foul words in combination with his strangely angelic face only make you wetter, and when he yanks off your trousers and underwear you are more than ready for him.

His gloved hand cups you, then a finger enters you surprisingly slowly. Probing.

“Wet,” he remarks with a disgusted voice that is more than a little at odds with the eager glint in his eyes. “So wet,” he says again while circling your clit. His voice has dropped impossibly low and his eyes are nearly black. “You will take my cock easily.”

“Please,” you moan, holding on to the console while he continues to stimulate you with his fingers. The slick leather feels incredible between your folds and you can’t get enough of watching the mixed emotions displayed in his odd, beautiful face, mirroring your feelings. So much want, and need, and fear. Disgust at behaving like this, at succumbing so easily to desire. Pride in your willingness to sacrifice yourself for the needs of the First Order. And pleasure, so much pleasure you are near bursting.

A high-pitched beep to your left alerts you to the console. The back-up has been completed. Your task is finished, your service fulfilled. You sigh with relief. Whatever happens now, the job is done.

“I guess you can kill me now,” you say, gently resting your hand upon his, now resting still between your legs. “It’s okay if you want to ruin the console, too.”

He chuckles darkly. “Foolish woman. My mood is for other things now.”

He removes his hand and holds it in front of your mouth. You obey eagerly, licking the glove clean of your juices. He examines it closely and then moves it to his belt, unclipping his saber.

You flinch. You had not meant for him to take you seriously. And didn’t he just say he preferred to keep the killing on a less literal level?

“Take it well, and I won’t turn it on,” he says huskily, bringing the weapon to your lips. You give the metal a nervous lick, then relax as you realize that he is the one in greater danger. At ease, you open up wide, allowing him to slide part of the hilt into your mouth. He watches through half-lidded eyes, his mouth open and his breath coming in little pants. Seeing him like that is intoxicating and you do your best to make it good for him, concentrating on how it would feel to do that to some part of him, rather than a lifeless object.

He withdraws the weapon rather abruptly and puts it between your thighs instead. Even wielded with care it feels uncomfortable and it is only your resolve to express gratefulness that makes you accept the treatment without complaint. It is definitely sexy, and yet decidedly not for you. He notices of course, looking hurt for a second before he gives the saber a hard, final push. You expected it and manage not to groan until he removes the weapon.

“May I touch you?” you ask quietly, eager to offer him something you could both enjoy. “Commander?”

He nods. You tentatively reach out towards him, closing your hands around his waist. You then proceed to explore his torso, slowly running your hand over every plane and ripple of him. So strong, so hard under your fingers, in spite of the layers of fabric. You go lower, to his stomach, his hips, his tight backside. His almost-moan when you lean your cheek against his stomach is adorable, encouraging you to turn your face and mouth him through his clothes. So hot, so alive. A new level of want for him rises within you and you begin to pull uselessly at his clothes to free him. A large hand on top of yours stops you.

“Lie back,” he growls. You comply without hesitation, mesmerized by the sight of him making the process short with both belt and layers of clothing. He looks glorious approaching you, so very ready to fill you.

Your legs over his shoulders, the tip of his cock at your slick entrance, threatening and teasing. His hands firmly planted on either side of your head. His eyes dark, daring you to move. You see it in his face the second before he snaps his hips, once, twice… three times until he is firmly settled as far as you can take him. Then he pulls out, almost, agonizingly slowly, before pushing back again.

The pace he settles next is brutal, and you can do little more than hold on to his hair, arms around his neck. Your inarticulate moans and whines seem to egg him on as he fucks you even harder, even faster. So good, so incredibly good, so almost, almost… there. White light explodes in your eyes, and then he lets out a feral, otherworldly growl that makes you spike again. His face is slack now, his gaze dreamy, both victorious and contented, and yet he doesn’t stop pounding into you. Not… until… a final… hard… thrust that drives your head against the screen behind you. The technology comes to life and the panels start blinking all around your head. Staring at your handsome commander, you let out a giggle, it is just so silly.

He answers with a smirk of his own, before efficiently straightening his clothes and putting on his helmet. You gingerly ease off the console, pointedly ignoring how slick the smooth surface suddenly feels.

“You will tell me your schedule,” he announces flatly as you pull on your uniform trousers.

“Of course, sir.” The situation feels so unreal, and yet you can hardly deny the commander information he has access to anyway. “Um… these longer backups run weekly, as long as the equipment is in order… so I’m usually here at this time every seventh day.”

“I will make this task not-boring for you,” he states and marches off.

Your eyes follow his hand to the lightsaber at his belt, and you draw a sigh of relief when he just touches it briefly. Kylo Ren is still fearsome and deadly, and although the idea of seeing him again makes your body tingle all over, at the same time it fills you with dread. You dare not trust him. And you do hope General Hux will never find out just how you pay for the Finalizer’s backup.


	5. Twisted devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A transgression is revealed, and punishment doled out. Or “I am not getting enough… eh… stimulation in my daily duties, sir!”

You can’t keep the book any longer. The encounter with Kylo Ren makes you realize this. It is far too dangerous, regardless of whom it belongs to. You will hand it in to the General first thing in the morning. Or at least the day after that. As soon as you have read two more stories. Or three.

Nearly a week has passed when you finally do put the book in a folder and place it on General Hux’s desk. He looks up from his work, annoyed at the interruption. An hour later, you are summoned.

“Ensign,” he says coldly, “thank you for this submission. What took you so long?”

“Eh… uh…” You are speechless. How on earth does he know?

“You would be wise to learn that very little on this vessel evades me. You should have reported the find to your superior at once.”

“Uh…I… didn’t know how to act, sir. With it being indecent, and all.”

“Are you an innocent, then? Did these stories truly cause you such concern?”

“Eh, no, sir.”

“Then I must conclude that you wanted to keep it for yourself. In other words, theft, Ensign, an offence punishable with – ah – I see I don’t need to tell you.”

“I wasn’t going to keep it, sir! Only borrow it for a short time.”

“You wanted to read it due to its explicit pornographic nature. Do not make the mistake of thinking you can trick me into believing you wished to study it to further your knowledge of the Empire. That excuse was old already when I was at the Academy.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You are not,” he states. This is a fact to him, not up for questioning. And it is the truth. “I know a degenerate when I see one,” he continues with a haughty drawl. “You have, no doubt, taken perverse pleasure in reading this filth, imagining yourself at the mercy of Director Krennic or Governor Tarkin.”

You whimper. “Please-please-forgive-me-sir-General, sir!”

“Forgive?” He lifts an eyebrow in mock surprise, then smirks. “You have committed an offence and will be punished for it.”

“I haven’t stolen, sir! Please believe me!”

“I admit you seem sincere in that, at least. Nevertheless, you will be punished.” His icy stare is utterly devoid of mercy.

“But sir!”

 “You clearly do not find your duties stimulating enough. I propose to remedy this shortly.”

“Sir?”

“Your deplorable action of withholding the volume in question for a longer time than warranted has indeed negatively influenced my service to the First Order, although only indirectly. Your debt is not primarily to the Order, but to me personally. Thus, rather than punishing this offence by subjecting you to the usual deprival of privileges, I would demand personal retribution.”

“Personal, sir? H..how?”

“You have deprived me of entertainment. Thus, it would be suitable punishment for you to provide me with a similar kind of entertainment.”

You stand gaping, trying to process the General’s words. Does he mean what you think? You press your thighs together, suddenly aware of a tingling sensation between your legs.

“Ensign, the choice is yours,” he continues in his cold, professional voice. “If you choose to entertain me tonight, I expect you will find some enjoyment in the proceedings as well, but it will be foremost for my sake, and you will serve me as I decide.” A shadow seems to pass over his face, his gaze suddenly darker and more intense.

You swallow. There is no alternative and you take the plunge into the unknown. “I choose to serve you, sir.”

“Very well,” he replies evenly and turns his gaze back to his datapad, suddenly appearing disinterested in you. “My quarters, then, at 21 hrs tonight. Wear a skirt. Nothing underneath.”

You draw an audible breath. You had expected something lewd, but you’re taken aback by the audacity of the General’s blatant declaration. He is the perfect image of efficiency, his fingers gliding over the screen as he nods.

He lifts his head again, as if surprised that you are still in the room “Is there something you want to say, Ensign?

“Will you…” You feel your cheeks heat almost instantly. You just can’t bring yourself to say the words, not to General Hux.

“Will I fuck you, Ensign? Is that what you wanted to ask?” His voice is cool, almost detached.

You nod.

“I most certainly will.”

“Will you make me…”

“Will I make you suck my cock? Definitely. Or wasn’t that what you wanted to ask? Will I make you come, was that it?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, feeling yourself get wetter by the second. You need to get out of here.

“Ensign,” the general says, louder now, and in the crisp voice he usually reserves for scolding the bridge crew, “the only thing you need concern yourself with tonight is making _me_ come. Have I made myself clear?”

“Very much so, sir.”

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, sir.”

 “Dismissed.” He turns his attention back to his work, while you rush out of his office. Outside, you stand for several minutes calming yourself until you can go back to work.

_***_

That evening you knock on General Hux’s door precisely at the time dictated, wearing the prescribed skirt. It’s black and combines rather well with your boots and shirt, but it barely reaches to your knees. You haven’t felt so self-conscious since your first day on board.

Entering, your glance immediately falls on the General reclining in an arm chair, handsome and unforgiving. Behind him is the menacing presence of Kylo Ren in full armour. The helmet hides any trace of humanity and the sight of him still frightens you. You had not expected to see him here, but it makes sense. The general wants a witness to your disgrace.

The general has removed his uniform jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, which for him is extremely sloppy dress. He cuts a regal figure nevertheless, all in black but for the pristine shirt. Somehow the suspenders draw extra attention to themselves, to where they begin… and end.

There’s a bottle on the table, open and half-empty. One glass stands beside it, a finger width of amber liquid inside. A package of cigarettes lies near the edge of the table. The book is there, too, Tarkin’s gaze trained at you as with accusation. He’s still hot, in spite of the trouble he’s put you in, and even that thought still has the power to cause a reaction in your body entirely inappropriate for the situation. Heat pools between your legs and you have to look away, at anything else. The glass is the nearest object to fasten your eyes on. It is a mistake. The general’s deceivingly slender fingers grip it and lifts it to his lips. They part almost sinfully and you have to look away again. His boots. They are safe, for now.

“I’ve had her,” Commander Ren suddenly says in that eerie, too even, modulated voice of his. “She pretended that she was unwilling, even to herself. It was glorious.”

“Slut,” the general sneers and puts his glass down a little too harshly. “Take the book”.

You reach for it and step back again, still staring at his boots.

“I have chosen a section for you”, the general continues, “and you will now read it aloud to Commander Ren and myself for our entertainment. Do not pretend to be reluctant – he will know your true reactions and share your thoughts when I tell him to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hux,” Kylo says before you can start reading.

“What is it?”

“You want this to be humiliating for her, don’t you?”

“This is intended as punishment, yes.”

“Then have her read “I” instead of “you”.

“An excellent idea.” Then to you. “Do as the Commander said.”

_Tarkin has had his eyes on me for weeks now, taking immense pleasure in watching my agony at beholding him, trying to hide my inappropriate and hopeless desires. Failing miserably. He sees it in the colour that wanders up my throat and cheeks, in my head too hastily turned the other direction when he approaches, and in my gaze cast down a fraction of a second faster than even utmost respect for a superior would justify. He hears it in my voice, even if he has to give me credit. The tremor is so slight someone less observant would miss it entirely._

You glance at General Hux. He wouldn’t miss it either, his sharp glance already willing you to turn your attention back to the book.

“Me neither,” the Commander chirps in, drawing an annoyed sigh from the General.

_He has been waiting for me to be desperate enough to confess my shameful wants. And now I am here, in his office. He contemplates sending me away, only for the thrill of watching me break. I am so close now._

_“Tell me, officer,” he says instead, delighting in how my gaze darts up with shock that he has broken silence, “what would you do if granted permission to speak freely?”_

_The flicker of agony in my eyes, together with the blushing, sends a rush of desire through him._

_“I would kneel, sir. And I would beg you to use me.”_

A nudge inside your head compel you to look up again. The General’s mouth is open, his eyes eerily dark and not as piercing as before. He clears his throat almost breathlessly and gestures towards the book. You start reading again.

_He turns away, smirking, half-hard already. These are the ones he enjoys the most, those that are eager, yet ashamed. Half-corrupted and aware of it, terrified yet trembling with desire for him to ruin them entirely, should that be his wish._

_He might actually come from the thought of it, this tainted innocence before him longing to be sullied beyond salvation. ‘Break me’, their eyes beg. ‘Take me apart so completely that nothing and no one can make me whole again. Make me yours.’_

“Ren?” the General barks.

“She wants that,” he confirms. “She wants you.”

_Some ask him to kill them afterwards, offer themselves as their ultimate sacrifice to him, this final proof of their… whatever it is they feel for him. That is a line he has not yet crossed. Never will. Even the Grand Moff’s depravity has boundaries. Yet, the offer is a heady liquor. He honours such requests; he never mocks those who voice them. Only tells them to stay alive so he may use them again, later._

_“How…”_ you begin, but it is the Commander who fills in the rest of the words. _“How should I use you, officer?”_

His impossibly deep voice flows unhindered. You know what angelic features you would see, were you to look at him. So you don’t, and instead let your eyes flit between the General’s face and the text as you read as sincerely as you can.

_“Anyway you like, sir. Fuck me, defile me, make me suck your cock. I’d do anything for you, sir. Please!”_

_My desperate confession makes him so hard he cannot stand further delay in claiming me._

_“You may kneel.”_

 “Kneel,” the General says, his voice drowning out yours.

You sink to your knees on the spot, vaguely registering how the Commander takes the book from your hand and then stands behind you. The General remains sitting, an expectant, hungry look on his face. Hands gripping the armrests, chin raised slightly, that gaze. He looks regal, and the impulse to bow before him, to touch your forehead to the floor in reverence for his absolute power is unquenchable. Ren stops you. His hand fisted in your hear forces you to stand on your knees, head high, witnessing how General Hux rises from the chair with feline grace and stands in front of you. You can almost smell his arousal.

Heat pools in your stomach and spreads through your body.

“General,” you whisper, staring straight ahead, almost surprised at your own audacity and the easiness with which you catch on to the scenario. “May I… may I suck your cock, sir?”

You can’t really tell if his trousers tent even more than before, or if he just leans closer, but the result is the same. He is so close every breath you take must come out as a hot puff against his skin, even through the layers of fabric. His posture is rigid – all you see as you glance up is his chin. His fists clench and unclench several times, and he takes a deep breath.

“Do it,” he hisses. “Do it well.”

Ren’s fist lets go of your hair. His knee against your back serves as a steady reminder of his presence and it’s strangely arousing to be caged between them like this. You hesitate for a moment to touch the General; putting your hand on his fly is so far from anything you had imagined you would ever be doing. Not for lack of desire, but opportunity. This is the legendary General Hux. You hold your breath and palm him. His intake of breath is nearly soundless but it gives you the courage you need to unfasten his trousers. Once you take the first step your fingers are steady.

The scent of him as you free his cock from the confines of his briefs is overwhelming. Clean, but poignant, and it reminds you again of the impossibility of what you are about to do. Ren’s hand is in your hair again, pushing. You can take a hint. You are not very experienced in the art of fellatio and hope effort and eagerness will make up for it. You do want to make it good for the General.

He seems content enough when you slide your wet lips over his cock, closing them just below the head. The smooth texture of him is pleasant against your tongue. There’s so much of him you could never hope to swallow. Encouraged by his heavy breathing, your tongue begins to explore every ridge, every tiny nook and cranny. There’s a wrinkled area that just begs for attention. The tip of your tongue can’t leave it alone, and the General makes the most undignified little sounds as you worry it again and again. Suddenly he lets out a strangled gasp and pushes you off of him. His fingers pinch around the base and the Commander’s fist is in your hair again.

“Up,” the General says, and Commander Ren drags you up with a strong grip around your arms.

You stand between them, feeling both pressing at you. The Commander’s hands come around your waist, then up to unfasten your shirt. When it spills open, the general already has his fingers underneath your skirt. They slide into your wetness easily.

“Dirty little cockwhore,” the general says with a contempt ill matched with the expectant look on his face. “So fucking wet.” He pushes his fingers into you again and again, faster and faster and you lean your head against the Commander’s shoulder. He is watching the General’s hand with fascination.

“Now,” he says breathlessly, halting your impending bliss just at the wrong moment.

“Please,” you whine.

“Shhh,” Ren says.

The General chuckles. “You’ll have it soon enough,” he says. “Just wait.” He crouches just enough to put his arm under your knee, then stands again and hoists you up. The Commander supports your other thigh, holding you open for the General’s assault. He enters you slowly, jaw clenched as if great effort is required on his part.

“Is this what you wanted, slut?” he hisses. “Is this how you desire to serve me?”

“Sir!” You try to push back against him, to little avail. The Commander is a wall behind you, his gloved hands holding you steady as the General rocks into you.

“Fuck,” he says, repeating it with rising urgency. “Fuck… fuck… fuck.” Then grunts are all that come over his lips as he thrusts into you. Commander Ren pants into your ear, then his tounge darts out and licks your throat. You let out a desperate moan, clutching the General’s shirt, watching his jaw tense as he pounds you frantically. Then suddenly he sighs and his face goes slack.

“Don’t worry,” he says as he slips out of you, panting, “We’re not done yet.” He retreats to the couch and sits in the corner, a towel draped over his crotch. He sips his drink, watching you.

The Commander lets you down, but keeps his grip around your arm. The other goes underneath your lifted skirt, fingertips circling your clit. Within seconds, he has you whimpering with need, thrashing against him, on the verge of coming.

The General tilts his head, and the Commander stills his hand.

“Much as I enjoy this wanton display, there’s another I’ll enjoy more,” says the General. He tilts his head again, and the Commander walks you towards the couch. He gently pushes your upper body down, and flips up your skirt. Much too briefly he lets you feel his length against your backside, then he backs off a little but remains standing behind you. One gloved hand rests on the small of your back, the other glides over your bottom, gently squeezing your cheeks.

Bent over the armrest, you still have a good view of General Hux reclining on the couch, a decadent, sated ruler gracing his subjects with his presence and a mild interest in their doings. His cock, already half-hard again, rests against his belly.

Commander Ren’s hand sneaks between your legs and you shift a little to make room for him. You are rewarded with fingertips grazing your clit, flicking it gently.

“Smack her arse,” the General tells Ren.

You gasp with the suddenness of it, your brain barely having registered the movement of his hand before it bears down on you. It stings, but not awfully so. Just enough to make heat surge through your body and blush rise to your face.

“Look at him,” Ren tells you softly. “Let him see your face while he punishes you.”

You lift your gaze, and you are mortified by the knowledge that the man watching you is the mighty General Hux. Not only does he witness your humiliation, but he sees how much it turns you on. It is delightful and so very shameful.

“Again,” commands the General, new interest making his eyes glitter.

“She likes it,” Ren comments as his palm lands on your backside again.

“Idiot. I am aware of this fact.”

The General’s cock seems to twitch with each gasp, each slapping sound as Ren continues to spank you.

“Please,” you whine, not sure of what you’re begging for. Ren’s fingers are at your entrance now, stroking sloppily, spreading your juices. Then they plunge inside and you reel from the intensity of it combined with the stinging smacks to your bottom. Low grunts accompany each thrust of his fingers, and you stare at the General with your mouth open in silent moaning.

“Move over, Ren.”

General Hux takes the place behind you. A smarting tap on your sensitive behind make you get into position for him and he enters you without preamble.

”Take my cock,” he says as he begins to move, “you dirty… fucking… slut.”

 “Yes,” you whine. “Please.”

He chuckles coldly.

Kylo Ren is on the couch now, on his knees, facing you. He stares at you in odd fascination, and then suddenly his mouth is on yours, kissing.

“Hux,” he says when he comes up for air, “she thinks it’s filthy to kiss me.”

“She’s right,” the General huffs, not missing a beat as he continues to fuck you, pounding into you steadily.

“Hux!” he complains indignantly. “I mean, not in general, but while you’re…”

“That, too,” sneers the General. “Now will you shut up while I finish…”

“Sorry.”

He sounds everything but, not that it matters to you. His mouth captures yours again, his tongue strokes against yours in perfect rhythm with the General and the moment is perfect and blissful and filthy and you just finally, at last explode between them. Then the General stills and sticky, messy reality is back as he pulls out with an obscene wet, plopping sound. Ren whimpers.  

“Ah,” Hux sighs contentedly as he resumes his previous position on the couch. He pours himself some more of the amber liquid and takes a sip.

“Go on, if you like,” he says with a regal gesture.

You land in an undignified heap with Ren on the floor. He may have intended to lay you down somewhat more gracefully, but you are both in too much of a hurry for it to matter.

A wisp of smoke finds its way into your nostrils and you cast a glance at General Hux. He takes a drag on his cigarette and sloshes the liquid in his glass, continuing to watch you.

You are on your back, legs wrapped around the Commander’s waist as he sheathes himself in you. He is large, but you are well prepared and sigh with pleasure at every slow, deliberate stroke. He growls delightfully as he takes you, a low-pitched, incredibly erotic sound. You stare into his expressive eyes, until pleasure overcomes you and your head lolls to the side. The General’s gaze meets yours and you whimper.

“Stand on your hands and knees for me,” Ren says softly, making it sound more like a request than an order.

You turn over, and immediately sink to your elbows when his weight becomes too much. You relish in the feeling of being surrounded, crushed beneath his body as he fills you again and again, pulling out almost completely, leaving you hanging in uncertainty for the briefest of moments before he pushes in to the hilt forcefully. It is not long before you both cry out with abandon.

General Hux is in the fresher when you leave. Commander Ren ushers you towards the door before you’ve fastened the buttons on your shirt.

“No need to dress,” he says. “We will move unnoticed.”

It feels decidedly weird to walk through the corridors in your half-dressed, disheveled state, and even more so when the troopers you encounter move to the side seemingly without noticing your presence. The Commander is a silent presence at your side. He is a stranger again, wearing his helmet, but less menacing than before. You have seen another side of him now, and you will remember.

“General Hux is pleased,” he tells you in his modulated voice as you open the door to your room.

Alone in your own quarters, you move about mechanically, use the fresher, take a shower, put on your sleeping shorts and top. Lie in your bed, lights turned out. You just had the most mind-blowing sex in your life and yet you suddenly feel so empty. It’s cold, and you’re shaking, and now you’re about to cry as if you weren’t miserable enough already.

A knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. You quickly wipe your eyes and patter to the door. It’s Thanisson, standing there looking sheepish in full uniform in the middle of the night.

“Ma’am,” he says and suddenly seems very interested in your toes. “I woke up and just knew I had to come here.” His gaze darts to your face and his brows knit in consternation. “Are you all right? What’s the matter?”

“Please come in,” you tell him. “I don’t want to talk about it. Just hold me, please.”

You climb into bed, scooting to the side and holding the duvet up for him. He hastily divests himself of all but undershirt and boxers, after pausing with an endearing blush before pulling off his trousers.

“Hold me,” you remind him softly as he gets in beside you, taking great care not to touch you. He edges closer and eventually puts his arm around you as you curl up with your head against his chest.

You lie like that, breathing in his clean scent of regulation detergent, feeling cared for. He stirs against your leg. It is a natural reaction and it doesn’t bother you, but he scrambles away.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he says in a rush. “I’m not used to this… and…”

“I know,” you tell him. “It’s okay.”

He is warm, calm and soothing. For the first time in months you feel entirely at ease. Safe.

In the morning, some time after Thanisson’s departure and just before you leave for breakfast, there’s a knock on the door again. The ‘trooper outside makes a wordless salute and hands you a small package, then turns on his (her?) heels.

There’s a card with the book.

_This is my spare copy. It is yours now, you have earned it honestly. Ren says you need to read it to someone, and you know whom. He insists that I tell you that tonight’s backup will be cancelled due to malfunctioning of the central console. You thus have the night off. Be prepared to spend extra time on overseeing the backup a week from now._

_~ General Hux_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to WynneMarchon, who suggested Hux read to Ensign Reader to embarrass her. I ended up doing it the other way around, but the idea was so inspiring that I scrapped the outline I had and rewrote the entire chapter. (No worries, that outline will likely end up as a separate ficlet instead, or be used in another story.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Finding calmness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What to do when feeling blue, or, the benefits of being able to pronounce Mitth'raw’nuruodo.

 

The day is a mess, at least inside your head. You just can’t get to terms with the fact that the impeccable General Hux has turned out to be so filthy in bed. And so incredibly sexy. How can you ever hear a command from him again, and not interpret it in some dirty way? Just seeing him from afar almost makes your heart stop.

Luckily, most of your day is spent off the bridge, running diagnostics for Engineering and the task is daunting enough that it keeps your mind off handsome generals. Not entirely, though. The two showers you’ve had since visiting General Hux have done little to discourage the wetness between your legs. You can still feel him there, or the memory of him. You are still slick, still puffed up, still… ready.

Thoughts of Commander Ren have a similar effect on you, but the oddly harsh and gentle lover is buried underneath layer upon layer of masked and deadly enforcer with its connotations of murder and mayhem. You have to concentrate really hard to get through to the glimpses of humanity you have seen underneath, that expressive face, his eyes in ecstasy. You bring your thighs together, clenching at the thought.

What sound was that? The static crackle instantly fills you with dread. You tense up, ready to run. Then sigh with relief as the sound turns out to have a natural cause. Just some repair work. No red glow. No black tempest. No. The realization is a relief, and yet. How will you survive until the next scheduled backup?

You eat in your regular canteen, with Thanisson. Going there, instead of to the nearest one, is a waste of precious time off-duty, but you need to see a familiar, friendly face. Someone to ground you in normalcy, lest you burst from longing for the impossible. General Hux has no personal interest in you. Only wretched, warped ideas of how to deal with slights. If only…

“She’s not interested in a relationship,” Thanisson says, in between bites.

“Uh… sorry?”

“My Stormtrooper. I should have told you earlier. You must have thought me some sick, heartless monster when I turned up at your door last night.”

“No. I needed you. You can’t even imagine how much.”

“You were pretty upset.” He puts his hand on top of yours. “Still, I don’t want you to think I’d be in love with one woman and at the same time cuddle with another without hesitation.”

“It wasn’t cuddling! We’re friends, that’s all.” It had felt divine to fall asleep in his arms.

“I get it now, with the ‘troopers, I mean. They aren’t really allowed to have relationships. A bit sad, if one thinks about it, but she doesn’t want it either. Just says it was nice to look at me when passing by with her contingent.” He shrugs. “It was silly of me to think anything could come of it.”

“I’m sorry. That must feel awful.”

He ponders this. “It did, at first. But, I’ve realized I’m not really interested in a serious relationship either. It would be differently at home. But here? At war? No.”

You nod and give his hand a squeeze before you resume eating. “Me neither. It’s no use thinking too much about the future.”

“But it was very… nice to hold you,” he says softly, hesitating for a second before continuing. “Forgive me for speaking frankly, but if you don’t mind, I’d be open to doing that again some time.”

He’s gone before you can reply.

You follow him with your gaze and it dawns on you. This is whom the General’s note spoke of. It’s Thanisson you need to read to. Of course! He deserves it for consoling you last night, and you really need to make it up to him for not allowing him to read the book he found, but keeping it for yourself. You should lend it to him, maybe even give it to him. Except you can’t. Knowing it had belonged to General Hux made it too precious to you, and besides, Commander Ren had said ‘read’, not ‘give’. And you have the opportunity tonight, with the backup being cancelled and all. It hasn’t happened yet, but he said it would be. He ought to know these things.

You ignore the engineers and go looking for Thanisson instead. Luckily, he’s not yet on the bridge, but in the corridor with Mitaka, just finishing reporting to him.

“Please come to my room tonight,” you whisper in his ear, lest the retreating Lieutenant hear. “There’s something I’d like to share with you. Unless you’re busy of course.”

“I’m not, but I thought you’d be. Don’t you usually oversee the weekly backups?”

“General Hux has given me tonight off.”

“Really? In that case, I’d love to.” His earlobes turn a lovely, deep shade of pink.

“We can cuddle, too,” you add, grinning.

He beams.

***

You are suddenly very busy, and very happy. The engineers’ displeasure with your lateness doesn’t affect you and for the remainder of your shift you think about the book. What will Thanisson want to hear? You’d like it to be something new to you, too, something you could explore together. Whom of the imperials does he admire the most?

In the end you let him choose.

“Thrawn,” he says immediately, once he’s gotten past your selfishness and realized the vast potential for lecherous entertainment that now lies ahead of him. He stares at your nightdress with mix of embarrassment and eagerness. The garment reaches to the middle of your thighs and you are wearing nothing underneath. You feel so evil.

 “You’ll have to make this up to me,” Thanissons says, “and let me hear all of it, but let’s start with the Grand Admiral.”

“Okay. I apologize for the meager decor. You’ll have to sit on that chair, I’m afraid, unless you prefer to be on the bed with me.”

“I do.”

You lie down on your belly, leaving little room for Thanisson, who ends up sitting on the floor. That is probably for the best anyway, considering how high the nightdress rides up.  
Thanisson leans his back against the bed. His hair is right next to you and it smells very nice, you note before you start reading.

_You were kneeling in the Grand Admiral’s quarters…_

“This is written from a female’s point of view,” you tell him, recalling Commander Ren’s advice to General Hux the other night. “Would you rather I read “I”, instead of “you”?

“That would make it more fun,” he replies, eyes shining. “Unless you’d be uncomfortable? I know it’s just a story, but still, it’ll be more real, as if you were actually telling me something raunchy from your own experience.”

“It’ll be more fun for me, too,” you reassure him and begin again.

_I was kneeling in the Grand Admiral’s quarters, right beside the front door, waiting for Thrawn to return for his rest. Hands demurely placed in my lap, eyes closed. Waiting, hoping that he’d let me explain my errand and not throw me out at once for daring to remain here once my duties had been performed._

_The door suddenly opening made me jump. Black boots stopped at my side, white uniform trousers continuing where the boots ended. I glanced up at the Grand Admiral. His eyes were narrow slits, trained at me in silence. He did not look displeased, merely curious._

_“Speak,” he finally said. It was an order, although softly spoken. Thrawn didn’t need to raise his voice to be obeyed._

_“I’m sorry, sir,” I started, eyes darting to his face, then to the floor again. “You don’t know who I am.”_

_“You clean my quarters, and efficiently so, I must add. Why are you still here?”_

_“I’d like to speak with you, sir. I want to offer you something.”_

_“Your body, I presume?”_

_My heart sank. Apparently, my idea wasn’t as unique as I’d imagined._

_The Grand Admiral looked me over rather pointedly before giving his judgement. “You look healthy and your physical features appear adequate, for a human. I am, however, not in the habit of engaging in carnal relations with my personnel.”_

_“I want to offer you knowledge.”_

_“Enlighten me.”_

_“I won’t presume to be attractive to you. But maybe I could satisfy some of your… curiosity?”_

_“What makes you believe I have not plenty of such opportunities already? I am a high-ranking officer, and it is no secret that humans are easily seduced by power.”_

_“Sir, you just said it yourself. You are a high-ranking officer. You are constantly watched and don’t have many opportunities to follow a whim. You wouldn’t have a relationship with another officer, nor can I imagine you paying for company.”_

_“There is nothing wrong in indulging in self-gratification.”_

_“You don’t, sir.”_

_“You certainly presume a lot.”_

_“Working in sanitation makes one good at reading traces, sir. Your sheets are always clean, and your clothes, too. There are never any scents here that aren’t accounted for. Nobody visits you here, you have never been to the quarters of other officers, and there’s nothing in your bathroom cupboard that would suggest… carnal activities. I guess you could do it in the shower, but I think you’d prefer something classier. Hence, I do believe that it’s been some time since you did… you know. And that is why I dared hope that you’d hear me out.”_

_“These observations indeed confirm the correctness of establishing the rule that sanitary staff must rotate at least once a year.”_

_“You are very wise, sir.”_

_“What do you get out of this?”_

_“You intrigue me, sir.”_

_“You find me exotic.”_

_“Yes, but I’m interested in you, not only your unusual features.”_

_“You tickle my curiosity. How dare you even speak to me?”_

_“I have nothing to lose, sir. This is my last day here. I will transfer in the morning, to another vessel. I have thought about you this whole year that I’ve been assigned to this section, and I just had to ask. For my own sake.”_

_“You are brave.”_

_“I’m not, just…”_

_“You are.”_

_“More, like, desperate not to miss the only chance I have to speak with you. Please allow me to touch you.”_

_“And if I decline? Humans are usually overcome with emotion and say they are going to dispose of themselves in some spectacular manner unless I satisfy their preposterous demands.”_

_“Sir, I won’t. I’ll understand if you say no. I’m not that interesting, and I never really thought you’d agree. I’ll be disappointed for a while and feel sorry to have disturbed you, because I respect you very much. But I’ll continue to hope my next assignment will be as rewarding as this one. Serving the Empire is important to me, even being an insignificant cog in the machinery.”_

_“Were it that all personnel understood their place as well as you do. Very well, I will indulge you. You have already added to my knowledge of your kind, it appears.”_

_“Sir?” I couldn’t quite believe my ears._

_“Help me remove my boots, once you’re so suitably placed. Then get up before I change my mind.”_

_I complied as swiftly as I could, then stood before him, longing to touch, yet out of courage. I had not planned beyond the initial speech._

You quit reading and turn to your audience of one. “Thanisson?”

“Yes. Why did you stop? It’s good.”

“Yeah, but my back is getting sore.”

“Oh, of course. Do you want me to take over for a while?”

“No, I’ll continue, but perhaps you could give me a back-rub?”

“Sure.” He moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

“It’s better if you straddle my thighs.”

“Are you sure? This is a bit embarrassing but… you’re not wearing much and being so close to you… I will have an inappropriate bodily reaction.” His blush was very cute.

“It’ll be exactly to the point,” you told him. “This is propaganda and it is supposed to affect those who read it. I will have a reaction of my own, pretty sure.” To be honest, you were wet already, whether from the story or the prospect of feeling Thanisson’s body against yours.

The bed groaned under the double weight.

“Touch me,” you said. “My shoulders are sore, and my spine, and if you could please rub my lower back, too.”

The nightdress slipped up almost as soon as his ministrations began. The thin material crumpled under his hands and you hissed with pleasure as he stuck his hand underneath and rubbed against your skin.

“Yes, right there.”

“Go on reading then,” he said breathlessly as his fingers stroked against your sides.

_“Proceed,” Thrawn encouraged. “I believe it is customary to kiss at this stage. You may touch me.”_

_Feeling an odd mixture of awkwardness and awe I wrapped my arms around the Grand Admiral’s neck and pressed my body against him. His hands went around my waist, one of them dipping to my backside. I touched my lips to his, tentatively. His eyes seemed to flicker, then darken a nuance as he took control of the kiss, devouring my mouth. I could already feel his hardening member against me. Large hands pressed me onto him, grinding._

_“I stand corrected,” he said, suddenly letting go of me. “It has indeed been a considerable amount of time since last I engaged, and I find myself quite eager. Undress for me. Let me look at you.”_

_He remained standing, arms crossed and stared at me with his alien, glowing eyes. Uneasiness suddenly hit me – this man was not of my kind. I knew nothing about him, nor his culture. He looked human enough, except for his unusual colouring, but he wasn’t. Then my gaze fell onto his uniform and the glimmering gold on his sleeves and shoulders, and a new sense of calm washed over me. Whatever his unusual beginnings, he was now an Imperial officer of the highest rank. His ideals, his goals and purpose were the same as mine, in spite of rank, in spite of species. He had proved his worth a thousand times to have risen so high. I owed him my gratitude and respect and had nothing to fear as long as I was faithful to the Empire._

_“Lie down.” The command was pronounced calmly. As soon as I complied, I heard how the Grand Admiral spoke to someone over the com system. His voice was too low for me to pick up anything but my designation, which he enunciated clearly. Sanitary worker 467897-d. He appeared pleased with whatever answer he received and wore a thin smile when he entered the bedroom._

_I watched in fascination how he removed his clothes, carefully folding or hanging up each item before moving to the next. He was a little sturdier in build than most other men I had seen out of uniform, but other than that, it was only his skin tone that was different. And his eyes, of course. I could not really read his gaze, but there was no need. As soon as he took off his underwear his mood was very evident._

_He laid on his side beside me, propped up on an elbow. I made a move to caress his arm, but he caught my wrist in his large hand._

_“No. You offered knowledge, and that is what I intend to collect now as I study your responses to my touch. Be still.”_

_His hand roaming over my chest was fairly easy to tolerate, my nipples not being very sensitive to gentle caresses. A pinch made me gasp, and he nodded, but moved his attention to my throat and face. His fingers ran over my skin, lightly enough to raise goosebumps in their wake. I wet my lips, which apparently was interpreted as an invitation. Two fingertips worried my lips, then pressed in as I parted them just enough to allow entrance. I pressed my tongue against the digits, and he began to move them slowly in and out of my mouth as he watched, himself openmouthed._

_“Analogy confirmed,” he remarked as to himself. “Oral stimulation is reminiscent of vaginal one.”_

“Mmm,” you moaned as Thanisson’s hands went lower, exploring between your legs. He let out a small groan of his own as he probed your wetness. His fingers quickly gained entrance and he began to push them into you with haste.

“Read on,” he urged. “Or I’ll stop.”

_The Grand Admiral’s wet fingertips –_ ah _– were suddenly between my legs, at first just resting on top of my clit. I looked at his face and his gaze caught mine, holding it while his fingers began to apply a light pressure. He circled my clit gently to my increasing whimpers, then ran his hand along my slit several times, gathering the wetness there and bringing it up to his nose. Blue tongue darted out, and before I had properly processed the sight, he settled between my thighs with unexpected agility. Now it was his mouth I felt on me, sucking powerfully as his fingers explored deeper. I thrashed and trembled under his ministrations, close already._

“Thanisson, please! We should quit reading.”

“No, I want to hear.” He removes his fingers and you hear him unfastening his uniform trousers. Something warm and velvety soft, yet rigid now rests on your backside. “Feel what you’re doing to me,” he says. “Now, go on.”

I can’t resist the impulse to press against his length, ever so slightly, delighting in how he trembles as I do it. “Do you really want me to read?” I ask, implying there is something more enjoyable we might do.

His answer is louder than necessary. “Read,” he hisses between clenched teeth.

I sigh, and turn my attention back to Grand Admiral Thrawn.

_He was wide, impressive not in length but in girth. Watching how his thick manhood entered my body was fascinating, arousing and absolutely obscene. It was mentally challenging as well; it was difficult to grasp being wanted by this powerful man, this mysterious creature, almost human but not quite._

_He met no resistance in my body, the slickness easing his way. Yet, it took a couple of thrusts before he was fully settled. He stretched me, but not uncomfortably so. I lay back and relished in the feeling of fullness. If only he would start moving._

_I lifted my hand to cup his cheek, and this time he allowed it. His skin was surprisingly cool to the touch. He studied my face with intent as I explored his chest with my hands._

_“Please?” I said with rising impatience. He felt delightful even like this, but I needed more._

_“Ask me properly,” he said calmly._

_“Grand Admiral, please fuck me. Sir!”_

_“Use my name.”_

_“Please, Mitth'raw’nuruodo.”_

_“Close enough. Mitth'raw’nuruodo,” he corrected, the name coming out as a purr._

_He leaned closer, pushing my knees almost to my ears. His face hovered just inches above mine when he began to thrust in quick, shallow movements with an exact pacing to keep me on the verge. I let out a keening sound and his mouth claimed mine in a violent kiss. His thrusts were harder now, faster, each of them pushing me into the mattress in cadence with his suppressed growls._

_He soon had me bucking desperately, moaning his name over and over. The combination of his cock pounding into me and the low growls in my ears soon became too much and I clenched around him, moaning with abandon. He lifted his head as he came with an openmouthed grin, suddenly looking raw and feral, devoid of his polished surface._

_Afterwards, he quickly schooled his expression into his customary calm and undetached one. He cleared his throat._

_“Thank you, sir,” I said quickly, moving to rise from the bed. “You have fulfilled my dream and I can leave this ship happy. I will remember you, always.”_

_He stilled me again, this time catching both of my wrists in his hands. He bent his head to place a small kiss in each of my palms, making me shiver. He had to let me go soon, or he would see me cry._

_He cleared his throat again._

_“Chiss matings are considerably lengthier than human practices dictate,” he remarked evenly. “A single act of penetration followed by climax is not considered a concluded coupling.”_

_“Chiss require multiple times?” There was still time before I needed to leave, if he wanted a second round._

_“Indeed, and over a longer period. One night does not suffice.”_

_“It’s all I have. I’m sorry.” I berated myself for not having approached him earlier._

_“Incorrect. I have made arrangements. You will remain on board in your present capacity. Whoever was to replace you will take your planned new assignment.”_

_“Really? We can… be together again?”_

_“Indeed. I do not, however, plan to intrude on your life, beyond expecting you to keep yourself accessible to me when my duties allow me to indulge.”_

_“Of course. I don’t know what to say, I’m just overwhelmed. But how could you be sure you’d want me again, I mean, before?”_

_“I had sufficient information to draw such a conclusion.”_

_“And you knew it’d make me happy?”_

_“Naturally.”_

_“Oh, sir, I don’t know how to thank you.”_

_“By coincidence, I do. I find myself_ _curious as to what sounds you will make when claimed slowly from behind.”_

 “So do I,” comes a whisper from Thanisson, his hands massaging your bottom. You shiver. You didn’t know he had it in him to make such demands.

“Please.” This isn’t happening, not really, you’re not about to let sweet young Thanisson of all people be intimate with you. Except it is already happening… and his cock would feel so good where his fingers had just been. “Please,” you keen.

He eases off of your thighs, allowing you to part them slightly and lift up a little. You feel him settle on his knees between your legs, and then probe your slick opening with his fingers. He pushes them in with a groan, the rest of his hand bouncing deliciously against your bottom as he thrusts repeatedly.

You open up some more, making room for him. Your breathing comes out in little gasps and he breathes heavily behind you. Then he shifts, and you wait with bated breath for his fingers to be replaced with his cock. You tilt your hips a little more and he strokes his hand over your rump. You arch into his hand, moaning.

He remains silent, but then you feel the head of him against your entrance. He pushes in, slowly, and lies flat against your back, weighing you down in a way that makes you feel safe. This gentle domination thrills you. You relish in feeling him flush against you, filling you, holding you, breathing hotly as he nuzzles your neck. His soft gasps in your ear as he moves his hips, fucking you slowly. It is agonizing and blissful. You want him to move faster, but are helpless to make him in this position.

“So good,” he coos. “So perfect and pliant and soft. So precious.”

“More, please.”

“Soon,” he whispers breathlessly. “Just a little longer like this, while I can still hold back.”

“Please,” you moan.

“Shhh.” He continues the slow assault until all sound you make is a constant, high-pitched whine. You’re so close, yet so far from getting enough.

Then, his weight eases off of you and you pull your knees under you to stand on all fours.

“Just like that,” he says, voice unsteady now, sounding hoarse and strangely mature.

“Now,” you tell him and push back.

It is all he needs to hear. His pace quickly becomes frantic and he leans his weight over you again, forcing you to sink your upper body into the mattress. The new angle is even better and you both moan loudly as he continues to pound you. Suddenly it is just too much and you climax hard, clenching around him. He snaps his hips a couple of times more and then collapses on top of you. That wonderful weight again. So safe. Enveloped. Little kisses on the nape of your neck, on your throat.

“Stay,” you tell him as he begins to move.

“I’d love to… I just…” he hints towards the refresher.

You nod and make yourself comfortable between the sheets. Thanisson can be left out of sight for a couple of minutes, as long as he comes back. You had promised cuddles, after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter, but there will be a bonus one. I can’t stop thinking about what Hux will do when he finds out about your agreement with Kylo Ren :-)


	7. Backup night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commander Ren keeps his promise to make overseeing backup a less boring task. General Hux finds out and wants a share, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning is sort of dubcon, but not really, ‘cause Kylo knows you want him. Which also sounds kind of creepy, now that I think about it. But if you’ve read the story up til now, there’s nothing to worry about here. The encounter develops into a threesome, obviously, and there’s a little bit of (rather innocent) touching between the guys, so if you hate the idea of that, then it might be a good idea to quit when General Hux turns up.

It’s backup night. Two weeks have passed since you saved the backup console from Kylo Ren’s anger. One week since Hux’s “punishment” for withholding his book. You shared a fantastic night with Thanisson just after that, reading and fucking and basking in each other. He’s a wonderful friend and an attentive lover and you have an entire book of smut to explore together while the war lasts. You are both free.

And yet, you do feel guilty for how wet your thoughts of General Hux make you. It’s filthy how badly you want Commander Ren, when you still shiver with fright from the mere sight of him. So shameful. General Hux was right to call you a slut and a cock-whore. Why do these thoughts have to turn you on so much?

And now, it’s backup night and you’re carrying out your tasks. Who can tell if Commander Ren will turn up like he said he would? He’s not exactly known for keeping a regular schedule. Maybe you’ll spend the night alone as usual, and twice the customary amount of time since it was cancelled last week, because of him. Whether he actually did cause the console to malfunction, or just made the technicians believe it to be broken, he did it for you. Maybe he simply wanted you to rest. Or to have a free night to spend with Thanisson. Or, it was supposed to send you the message that he was no longer interested, having sampled enough of you already. Not knowing is unnerving.

There is nothing to do but wait and watch the display. The green and red columns on the screen flicker, changing constantly, showing how the backup is proceeding. Not that it needs your help. You could go to a window, watch the stars instead. Or read, had you thought to bring the book.

Suddenly, a gloved hand covers your mouth from behind and you are pressed back against a hard body. Your muffled scream is drenched by loud breathing, the sound fortified and distorted by a mask. Your heart is beating wildly, your legs twitch, refusing to accept that you cannot run. You clutch the arm holding you. It doesn’t budge. Only when you still completely, Commander Ren allows you to speak.

“You startled me,” you say shakily.

“You told me your schedule. We have an agreement.”

“Yes, but…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” he hisses. “Your thoughts are so loud all my knights would sense your desire from afar, and would flock around you right now.  None of them could leave you alone if they were on board. I have restrained myself for many days now. No more.” He presses you harder against himself. Your whimper is answered by a low growl. 

The metal of his mouthpiece chafes against your ear, an instant reminder of the ugly mask that removes all signs of humanity from him. The Master of the Knights of Ren shows no mercy, the rumour says. He has no feelings left in him, every trace of humanity removed by his rigorous training, the dark arcane mysteries he has pledged himself to. This is the vision of your nightmares. 

He runs his hand over your chest, teasingly. It shouldn’t make you gasp and press against him, not like this.

“Please, not with the helmet on.”

“Oh yes. You feel so good when you fear me.” He gives emphasis to his words by grinding against your backside.

“I can’t,” you whimper.

“You can take it. You don’t need to see my face. Keep your eyes on the console,” he continues. “Put your hands on the sides of the screen and keep them there. Understood?”

You press your eyes shut, willing yourself to relax. This is still the same man, even with the mask. You almost believe it, until he speaks again.

“If you don’t comply, I have means to make you.”

You shiver. That thought is frightening and tempting in one. You want him to use his powers on you, to make you helpless.

He chuckles.

“You couldn’t resist me even if you wanted to, Ensign. You are entirely at my mercy.”

“Please.” His fingers fly to your belt and you hold your breath as he bares you.

“Please, what? I’ll never let you go when I have you like this, open before me.”

He rubs your clit. Then he runs a finger down between your thighs, feels around your opening. You can hear how wet you are.

“So ready. See?” A gloved finger coated in slick is placed in front of your face. “There’s no denying how much you want me.”

You realize then how true his words are. Even if your mind is confused, your body knows him. Needs him. “Please,” you whisper.

“What if I prefer to hear you beg, hmmm?”

“Commander, please! Sir! Please!”

“What is it you want, I wonder?”

“Your cock, sir.” It’s easy to admit it.

“Louder.”

“Give me your cock, sir!” You shout it out in frustration, not caring who might hear.

“Tell me I own you.” His voice is unnervingly calm.

You take a deep breath before answering. “I belong to you, Commander Ren.”

“And that means? Hmm?”

“You can have me whenever you want to.”

“Good.”

He fills you to the hilt.

You let out a drawn-out keening sound as he pushes in. And stays, stretching you without moving. It feels wonderful and yet it’s not enough, by far. He chuckles darkly at your impatience.

“Please move! Have some mercy!”

He remains still, but doesn’t restrict your movement. It’s not much, but he allows you to fuck yourself on his cock, rocking back and forth between him and the console. This is so good, if only…

“Please remove the mask. Be Kylo to me.”

“No.”

The flat denial is like a slap in your face, made worse by the exquisite pleasure you feel as he begins to thrust. He fucks you with long, slow strokes that become erratic as he picks up his pace. One hand goes to your mouth, the other slithers to press against your clit while you suck his fingers eagerly, lost in sensations, with no other goal than to please.

His thighs slap against yours and you both moan. Your hands turn white from the effort to hold you up. Your face is pressed against the screen. Commander Ren drives his cock into you mercilessly from just the right angle. It’s too much, so good, so intense. His feral grunts as he comes send you over the edge as well. You stand panting for a long time, chest heaving, clenching around him still inside you.

Afterwards, he turns you around. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as he touches your cheek gently.

“You really do fear me,” he says with astonishment. “I will not harm you.”

“I want to believe you, but I can’t.” At the sight of his helmet, your distress is back with full force. “Not when you’re wearing that. Not when you’re Commander Ren.”

“And now?” He removes his helmet and you sigh with relief.

“Yes. Now you are Kylo. I trust you. You are kind to me, even if you’re rather funny at times.” The sudden sense of relief makes you giddy. You cup his cheek fondly and he swiftly turns his head to lick at your palm. You snatch your hand back, laughing. The fearsome knight is truly a thing of beauty when he smiles.

The loud clearing of a throat, just to your left, shocks you into silence. General Hux is clearly not pleased.

“How sweet,” he says acidly. “Rutting like animals in open sight, and you don’t even have the decency to be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You knew,” you say accusingly to Kylo, who looks a little sheepish, then snaps back at you.

“I could hardly deny Hux access to his own vessel.”

“I am glad there is at least one rule you care to keep, Ren,” says the General. “I understand you two have an agreement of sorts, to misuse and defile First Order property on a regular basis.”

Kylo just stares at him haughtily, chin lifted.

“General, sir,” you try to explain. “This was rather intended to… to lessen damage, by keeping Commander Ren occupied and in a better mood.”

“I see. He threatened you.” He glares angrily at his co-commander. “As the party with the higher rank, Ren is responsible for this, even if you, Ensign, are not without guilt. You will both compensate me for this… mess.”

“Of course, sir,” you tell him after a quick glance at Ren’s smirk. His eyes are suddenly gleaming in much the same way as the General’s. You smile with relief for the second time that night. General Hux isn’t as upset as he made you believe, merely horny. And now you feel a familiar surge in your belly as well. “Your quarters, sir?”

“Much as I would prefer the seclusion of my own quarters, as the officer currently on duty I cannot leave the bridge at this time.”

“Then you will let me… compensate you here, sir?”

“Indeed.” He clears his throat again. “You want it good and hard, if I remember correctly.” His eyes are steely and his commanding tone of voice goes straight to your core. “I will give it to you,” he continues, “just like that. You filthy slut. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Whoring yourself to your commanding officers like that. It’s despicable.”

“It’s delicious,” Ren whispers seductively, lips almost touching the General’s ear.

“Appalling is what it is. You ought to be punished for it, except you’d like that, too, wanton slut.”

Your attempt to reply comes out as a needy moan. His voice swirls around you, entangles you and makes you forget all else.

“Just look at you, practically begging for someone to fill you up. Even those filthy knights would be welcome, I presume. You are unable to stop yourself, I can see that. I will give you what you deserve,” he continues, the contempt in his voice ill matched by the gleam in his eyes. “A big, fat cock up your insatiable cunt.”

“Please, sir.”

_Touch him._

The voice is Kylo’s and yet it’s not. It’s even deeper than usual and it takes you a couple of seconds to realize that he has spoken inside your head.

Kylo has his hands under the General’s tunic now, holding him from behind. The garment is unbuttoned and you can see those large hands gliding over pale skin. The General seems to have lost his ability to speak, at least for the moment. His mouth is open, but no sounds come out of it. You cup the significant bulge in his trousers and his eyes flutter closed. Grunts spill from his mouth once begin to touch him in earnest, followed by long, needy moans as you continue to rub him. Kylo’s mouth catches his in a searing kiss and his eyes fly open. His look is one of protest, but the knight doesn’t give him a chance. A hand on his throat calms him, and when you open his trousers and begin to fondle his balls, his head lolls back against the knight’s shoulder. Such a beauty to behold.

_Stop._

The voice inside your head again. You realize that the General is thrusting erratically into your hands and you hurry to hold him firmly at the base. As soon as he appears calmer, Kylo lowers him gently onto the floor and you quickly shed your uniform, all of it.

General Hux is lying on his back now, raised onto his elbows. He regards you hungrily as you lower yourself onto your knees between his feet.

“Slut,” he says slowly, almost lovingly now, as if forming the sounds gives him great pleasure. “Come and get it.”

You bow your head and drag your tongue all the way along the underside of his cock, all the way to the crown. Kylo is kneeling behind the General, massaging his shoulders and whispering into his ear. They both watch eagerly as the head of General Hux’s cock disappears between your lips.

“So filthy,” the General whispers as you suckle him. “Dirty sluts, both of you.” Kylo sucks his earlobe into his mouth and he keens.

You let go of his cock and straddle him instead. His hands close around your waist and he presses you down onto him. Riding him is such a power trip. This beautiful, powerful man, your General, panting beneath you, pleasuring you frantically, bucking up into you as if his life depended on it. Kylo is behind you now, stroking your sides until you shiver. He catches your wrists and hold them behind your back. The general barks out a laugh and begins to thrust into you even harder.

Then you are suddenly on your back and the General buries himself in your wetness again. He thrusts aggressively, jaw clenched, hissing through his teeth. He is in control. You surrender to him completely, and he must sense this somehow. He grinds into you, slow and deep, drawing little whimpers from you with each thrust. His expression is victorious.

“Hu..u..ux!” you exclaim as pleasure takes you. He is tense still, jaw clenched, pounding into you again and again, all through your orgasm. Only when you lie there, boneless and shuddering with each thrust does he give in to his own climax. The change in his expression is amazing. All coldness, tenseness, everything hard and piercing is gone, replaced by slack, dull contentedness as he collapses on top of you. He grunts with satisfaction, then sits back onto his knees.

You both look at Ren, who has clearly just enjoyed a blissful moment of his own. He wipes his hands on his cowl, which earns him a scowl from Hux.

“What? I’ll have it cleaned in the morning. Would you rather I’d left a stain on your precious floor?”

An expression of horror crosses the General’s face and he glances at your crotch. You scoot back, and there it is: a wet spot where you just lay.

Ren is grinning wider than ever. The General purses his mouth. You stare pointedly at Kylo’s cowl and he throws it to you. There. Spot gone. Everyone happy.

General Hux visibly relaxes, and when you are all dressed again, he clears his throat and his eyes glaze over just the tiniest bit, like at the moment just before he delivers a speech.

“I admit my mouth at times is filthier than I care to think,” he says in an even, official voice. “No offence was intended, Ensign. Your willingness to engage in these activities is much appreciated.”

“None taken, sir. You may have noticed that I rather enjoyed it. In the heat of the moment, so to speak. I wouldn’t like to be debased like that outside of the bedroom.”

“A General of the First Order would not allow himself to address a woman in such a way in any other situation.”

“I’m glad to hear it, sir.”

“My shift is over. I wish you goodnight, Ensign.”

“Goodnight, General.”

His salute is impeccable and you do your best to reciprocate, while not thinking of all the ways your current appearance does not meet with Order regulations.

General Hux gone, Kylo approaches you with his helmet in one hand and the filthy cowl slung over his arm.

“Remember my knights,” he says and puts on his helmet. “I might need to invite them to this ship soon. We share. Everything.”

You shiver again, and you honestly cannot tell whether you’re thrilled or scared out of your wits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the end of this story. As for now, I have no plans to write an encounter with the Knights of Ren, but who knows? Thanks for reading!


End file.
